


ours

by halcyonskies



Series: OTP Challenge [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Castiel, Alpha Sam, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Animal Instincts, Castiel is a Sweetheart, Insecure Dean, Kid Fic, M/M, OTP Babies, Omega Dean, Worried Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-20
Updated: 2016-04-20
Packaged: 2018-06-03 10:22:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6607213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halcyonskies/pseuds/halcyonskies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, Sam is wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	ours

**Author's Note:**

> 3rd Challenge - The Birth Of Their First Child

As the big day approached, Sam began to hover even more than he normally did. Nerves already fraying at the seams, Dean quickly grew fed up with the poorly concealed looks of concern his little brother kept directing at him.

“I’m sorry, okay?” Sam had said when Dean finally confronted him about it, ill-tempered with hormones and determined to bury his own reservations about this whole thing. “Look, I like Cas. He’s a great guy, and a good alpha–”

“So why don’t you just leave it alone?” Dean snapped, putting all of his attention into the laundry underneath his hands. He’d been folding and refolding it for the past half hour, too antsy with Sam in the room to sit still. He was sure Sam had noticed; wisely, his big alpha worrywort of a brother hadn’t said anything about it.

“You know why. It’s not anything against him personally, Dean – but statistically, alphas are more likely to reject a cub if it isn’t theirs.”

“Statistically.” Dean glared hard down at the little polka-dotted onesie in his hands, brand-new and freshly washed, ready for their cub as soon as she needed it. Cas had picked it out himself, that and about a dozen other tiny cub outfits, so overcome by excitement that Dean couldn’t bring himself to try to reign his mate in.

“Yeah, statistically. I just don’t want you to get hurt, Dean. Not like–”

Dean couldn’t take it any more. “Shut your goddamn mouth, Sammy, okay?” he exploded, slamming his palm on the counter. “Don’t you even _dare_ compare Cas to him. Unlike that dickhead, Cas actually stepped up and offered to help when I got knocked up! Don’t you think he woulda left by now if he really cared about that stupid bullshit you keep spouting off?”

Sam waved his hands frantically, eyes wide and worried. “Okay, okay, don’t get upset–”

“What the fuck do you expect, insulting my alpha like that?” Dean growled, poking a finger into Sam’s chest, feeling absolutely flush with anger. “He can smell me just fine, you dick. It hasn’t put him off yet, has it?”

“No, but–”

“But _nothing._ Christ, it’s like you _want_ me to be miserable or something.”

Sam growled, pushing his hand away. “You know that’s not true.”

“Then why can’t you just _shut up_ about it? If it happens, it happens. Okay? I’ll just have to cope on my own. But I’m telling you, it _won’t.”_

Dean’s brother sighed, resigned and morose all at once. He shuffled close, pressing his nose against the crown of Dean's head in apology, and even though he was still angry Dean did nothing to put him off. He didn’t like fighting with his brother any more than Sam did, but he wasn’t going to budge. Not on this.

That had been the last time Sam brought it up, but it was obvious he was still worried about it. Truth be told, Dean was a little scared too. For all his talk, for all his trust in Cas, there was still that niggling doubt in the back of his mind that all of this would come crumbling down. He knew, if it happened, that it wouldn’t be Cas’ fault, not really. No – if Cas rejected Rory once she was born, too overcome by territorial instinct to accept another man’s cub as his own, then it would all be the doing of Mother Nature.

Dean had never hated that bitch more than he did now.

But, no matter what Sam said, no matter how anxious he was, Dean _knew_ it was a good sign that Cas hadn’t split yet. Most times, if an alpha couldn’t stomach a cub that wasn’t their own biologically, they’d be able to tell as soon as they could smell the cub’s scent. That time had come and gone – it was already three months back that the scent of smoke and black pepper had begun to mingle with Dean’s own more familiar smell, and Cas hadn’t turned away then. He’d actually seemed _more_ eager after the fact, wreathed in smiles and the stench of alpha pride like he was the one that put the cub in Dean’s belly.

It gave Dean hope, and made him feel better when fear gnawed away at him in the quiet of nighttime.

//

Rory Samantha Shurley weighed in at six pounds, eight ounces, and she was about the tiniest, most fragile thing Dean had ever held in his arms. Sweat trickled down the back of his neck, matted the hair to his forehead, but he couldn’t be bothered to wipe it away, not as wholly occupied by his cub as he was. In that moment, it was like the two of them were all that there was in the world.

After those precious few moments of awe, Dean was suddenly aware of the strong smell in his nose – not the antiseptic smell of hospital or even the fresh, milkscent of cub, but something old and earthy, like leather and stone.

Dean looked up at Cas, and realized instantly that all of his fears had been _patently_ unfounded.

His mate didn’t look uncomfortable or repulsed or any of the myriad emotions Dean had been dreading these past few months. He looked absolutely _enraptured,_ blue eyes wide and wet and filled to the brim with wonder, as proud as an alpha had any right to be.

“Look at her,” Cas breathed, calloused tan fingers trailing over the soft cheek of their cub. “Dean, _look_ at her.”

“I’m lookin’, Cas,” Dean answered, eyes full of his alpha all tender and amazed at something as simple as a newborn. He felt giddy with relief, love overflowing until his chest ached with it, and when he laughed, it was more than a little wobbly. “Not too shabby, huh?”

“God, Dean, she’s beautiful.” Cas was smiling then, squinty-eyed, crinkle-nosed, so happy he seemed to glow with it. Then he was pressing kisses to Dean’s head, to the side of his face and his shoulder and any exposed patch of skin he could reach. That familiar odor was back, the potent scent of alpha pride, strong as ever.

“Yes she is,” Dean agreed, knowing down to his bones that everything was going to be alright.


End file.
